A/N
Any and all reviews/comments would be so appreciated! I'm more than 40,000 words into what was meant to be a 10,000 word story. I would seriously appreciate any sort of feedback or engagement. That's the stuff that really keeps me going!
Not a problem. Not a problem. Not a problem.
Remus repeated it to himself over and over again in hopes that the next time would not sound so hollow. He repeated it when Sirius went back to work and he immediately met up with his dealer. He repeated it when he started lacing cigarettes with heroin so he could keep a supply in the flat without Sirius knowing. He repeated it when he took uppers in the morning to get him through the day and downers to get him through the night.
It wasn't a problem if he kept to a schedule. It wasn't a problem if he wasn't doing heroin more than twice a week and wasn't physically dependent. It wasn't a problem if the Valium he was taking was prescribed by a legitimate muggle doctor for legitimate panic attacks (he'd only had them on rare occasions in the past but ever since Oliver they'd become a frustratingly common occurrence) even if he was taking the medication far above the prescribed dose. It wasn't a problem because he wasn't drinking as much anymore, which was the real problem. That was his fathers problem and Remus decided to pack it away along with the rest of Lyall's possessions. It wasn't a problem that he was struggling to stop all together, because he was managing it and he was so close to getting there completely. It wasn't a problem if he could just keep control.
A few weeks passed and Remus had still heard nothing from Dumbledore. He was slowly starting to get back to, well, nothing had actually been normal in a long time, but back to something. Since Sirius' return to work, Remus was doing his best to avoid being alone. The easiest way to do this was to spend all his time with Lily and Harry. They made for a conveniently captive audience to his ongoing grief. He'd go over right after Sirius had left for work and then come home right after James got back. Not that he didn't want to spend time with James. Sometimes he'd stay for dinner, but mostly he just wanted to get home to Sirius. He wasn't over every day, he was trying not to be too overbearing, but a couple of times a week.
Things weren't entirely smooth sailing between him and Sirius, but they were both making a real effort. Despite the occasional passive aggressive jab or dark moods on both their parts, pretty much all Remus wanted to do was be around him. Every moment that he could be with him, he was. He knew he was being clingy. Needy. He knew Sirius was being remarkably tolerant and that his patience probably wouldn't last forever, but he couldn't stop himself. Not to mention an unfortunate side effect of using laced cigarettes was him developing a genuine habit, so even when he wasn't getting high, he kept smoking. Sirius wasn't exactly thrilled about that particular development.
Now that Sirius knew about the missions, he finally had someone he didn't have to hide that aspect of his life around. Not that he really talked about it. At all. Every time he tried he felt himself struggling to breath. Still, he had the option, and that was a huge relief. He'd made Sirius swear up and down that he wouldn't breath a word of it to any of the others. Sirius had promised him he wouldn't. He had let slip that he had half a mind to fight Dumbledore for being so reckless with his life. Remus made him promise not to do that, either.
The days he didn't go and bother his friends he found other ways to occupy his mind. It wasn't a problem. He had a routine. A schedule. Control.
He'd started to worry that his constant presence had been irritating Lily. She assured him that she was delighted to have the company and the help with the baby. He would often play with Harry while she sat and read or took a nap.
He made the unfortunate mistake once of getting his days mixed up. He'd been nodding off on the couch when the phone on the kitchen wall had started ringing. Literally the only person who had ever called that phone was Lily. She was the one who convinced them to get it installed. Everyone else communicated through owl, or else just showed up in person if it was urgent. They had other means of communication for Order business. She insisted it was much more efficient to phone, especially in emergencies. She got very irritated when the others made fun of her for it ("Muggles aren't totally stupid, you know, sometimes they have better ways.")
When he'd answered Lily demanded to know why he'd missed lunch. He could hear Harry crying in the background. After downing a couple of cups of coffee he figured he was in good enough shape to pass off as just tired.
"Are you okay?" Lily asked as soon as he stepped out of the fireplace.
"Hello to you too, Lily."
She got close to him, holding a fussing Harry in her arms. He tried to back away but there was no space behind him. She stared at him, scrutinizing.
"I thought you sounded weird on the phone. Your eyes are all glassy. I told you, I can't let you look after Harry if you've been drinking," she said, not unkindly but with but noticeably frazzled.
"I haven't-" shit, he hadn't been drinking but what was he going to do? Tell her the truth? Not an option. "Fine, I smoked a bit of pot," he settled on as a compromise. "I forgot it was Wednesday, okay, can you back up a little please?" he said, holding up his hands and trying to pull back as much as he could.
Lily stepped away, a bit calmer. She could deal with him being a little stoned. It was an improvement over how he'd been even a few weeks ago.
"Sorry, I haven't slept much. Fuck Remi- shit, I mean fudge- oh fuck it he doesn't understand yet."
She went and sat down (collapsed) on the couch. He sat beside her. She leaned against him, head on his shoulder, ignoring as Harry pulled at her hair.
"Remi, I would kill for a joint right now. I am so jealous of you I can barely stand it."
"I think you're the first person whose ever been jealous of me in my life," he joked back.
"Oh shut it, we're not thinking about your problems today, it's my day. If I have to breastfeed while you get high, then you damn well have to put up with my bitching. I mean, I love him so much but my god, it's just non-stop," she whined. "I love him, of course I do, but it's all day every day in this stupid house. If I could just go for a walk or something…"
Remus squeezed her tight. He continued listening to her rant for a while, letting the words wash over him, chiming in with the appropriate acknowledgments and commiserations. Lily had a pretty voice. It was so nice to focus on other people's problems. He tried to keep his head upright, but felt it lolling forward.
He was shocked by the sudden feeling of being poked hard in the ribs. He turned to look at Lily, who was staring at him with concern. He looked back at her with dazed confusion.
"What's wrong?" he asked.
"What's wrong with you?" she countered.
"Lily, we don't have that kind of time," he said dryly.
"Hey, I'm serious. You keep falling asleep and just muttering complete nonsense."
Had he been doing that? Apparently, the caffeine hadn't helped as much as he thought. Harry had fallen asleep at some point and Lily had put him in the bassinet at their feet without him noticing.
"Look, cards on the table, I'm still pretty stoned," he said, rubbing at his eyes a little.
"Your hands are shaking, love," she said gently, reaching up and grabbing his hand from his face. He pulled it away, shuffling back from her. He shoved his hands in his pockets.
"I'm just tired Lil. I haven't been sleeping much."
"Yeah, I'll bet," she said quietly. "I thought you were cutting back on all that stuff, anyway. I know you've been having a hard time. You can talk to me about it, Remus."
"I have been cutting back. Just ask Sirius," he said defensively.
"I did, when he came over the other day. He said you've taken up smoking. Peter said when he had dinner with you on the weekend you were all twitchy and you barely ate."
"Are you all talking about me behind my back then?" he accused.
"Oh, don't start. We're concerned. You did the exact same thing after James' parents passed. Don't pretend you're shocked." He sighed. She had a point. "I'm not stupid, Remi, and I'm not the others. You can't just brush it off because I'm a witch and don't know how this stuff works. Whatever you're getting into, I'm worried it's out of control," she said with an edge of concern that only made him feel guilty. There was that word. Control. He was out of control.
"My father just died." My friend was murdered right in front of me. "Sorry for not having my shit together."
"You know that's not what I mean. This has been going on longer than the last few weeks. I love you, I just want to make sure you're okay."
"There's no problem. You're making a big deal out of nothing."
"Well, if that's true I'm sorry, but I'm not convinced."
"Drop it, Lily," he said harshly.
She looked taken aback. He never snapped at her. She stopped pushing. They sat in tense silence a little while before she changed the subject.
It was still so soon after his father's death, and before that he'd all but disappeared from her life for months, except to apparently show up drunk and high one time, then leave without even seeing her. Whatever was going on with him terrified her. James and Peter seemed (in her opinion) naively optimistic about his ability to sort himself out with a bit of time, and Sirius would barley talk about it at all. The last thing she needed was for Remus to disappear on her again. If he wanted her to drop it, then she'd drop it. For the time being.
Remus was really starting to feel like his life was becoming defined by all the conversations he was not quite having. He was glad he was actually seeing his friends again, but he was remembering why he'd been avoiding them so much in the first place.
This was especially evident when Marlene invited him out to lunch, and he realized that they hadn't actually been alone together even once since the incident with the pills. They'd seen each other a few times since then, but only with company. Marlene and Dorcas had come over and spent time with him and Sirius not long after his dad died. They'd seen each other at order meetings a couple of times.
She'd tried to talk to him, but he'd dodged her efforts with great success. She was the only person other than Sirius who knew about what happened on the roof, and he'd pretty successfully avoided Sirius for months after that whole ordeal despite literally living together. She was also still, as far as he knew, clean. He was almost certain she was going to bring up topics he didn't want to talk about. She wouldn't be touchy-feely about it, but she'd do it.
Still, he didn't want to lose the friendship, and he knew there was only so long he could ignore her before she'd just stop trying to reach out.
Rather than meet at a café, they'd set up a little picnic and met at Hyde Park. They'd been there for an hour, mostly just idly talking shit. It had been quite pleasant. There was a lull in conversation, both of them laying back against the picnic blanket, staring at the dappled light through the treetop above them.
"This is going a lot better than I was expecting," Marlene said out of nowhere.
"Yeah, for me too," he replied, sitting up and facing her. "I thought it was going to be awkward."
"Why? Because you all but dropped off the face of the earth for months and ignored me, like an ass?" she chirped happily.
"Yeah, that. Good thing you're dead inside or that might have been hurtful," he joked.
She punched him affectionately on the shoulder. "You're the only one who really sees me," she laughed. "I mean, when Dory and I came over a few weeks ago all you did was lay on your couch and stare blankly into space not talking, so this is a faster improvement than I was expecting."
"Oh, no, don't be fooled by the easy going exterior," he said with a smile. "I'm about a hairs width away from a panic attack at all times and I'm honestly not totally sure I'm not dreaming right now."
"Well, you're not piss drunk like you were the last visit," she said happily.
"You've just been waiting to bring this up the whole time, haven't you," he said, dropping the mock cheer.
"I've been waiting to bring it up for months, Remi," she said, also taking a more serious tone. "As far as I knew you'd pretty much quit drinking. Next thing I know you overdose and then just disappear. I know you were spending a lot of time with your dad," -he cringed a little. She still didn't know about the missions- "but fuck, a quick 'hey, I'm not going to off myself anytime soon' would have been nice."
Leave it to her to not try to spare his feelings. Not that she was wrong. He generally tied not to think about that night. He still didn't remember a lot of it, but it terrified him that he was capable of doing something so extreme. He could hardly blame her for being frightened too.
"Yeah. I guess I kind of spiraled out for a while there," he said, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. "I was on a bit of a bender and I, well," he paused, not sure how to continue.
"You didn't want anyone to try and stop you? Make you feel shit about it? Worry?" she supplied knowingly.
He shrugged. "Pick one."
"Hey, you know, I didn't want to talk about my shit either when I was in a rough spot and you pushed me anyway. I'm just returning the favor. Also, let's face it, I was in far less dire straits than you. I'm just a bit of a, what was your term? 'Coke fiend.' You're all kinds of fucked lately."
"That's touching, thank you," he deadpanned. "I'm managing Marley, really."
"Okay so tell me, have you taken anything today? Had a drink, a pill, a line?"
"Fuck off," he huffed. She looked at him pointedly. He sighed. When he spoke again, he was quiet, looking down at his hands. "A couple Valium." So far. He was meeting his dealer after their lunch.
"Hey," she said with slight sense of urgency, "where's your head at? I'm not going to give you the whole stupid sober speech right now because I know that's the last thing you want with all the shit going on in your life and you have to be ready for this stuff."
She was talking like it was decided. He had a problem and it was just a matter of time until he dealt with it. He wanted to fight her on it, but it was all he could do not to curl up into a ball of shame in that moment. Did they all think this about him? No, Sirius, James and Peter didn't. The Marauders had known him longer and better than anyone and they understood. He was just responding to a world that was out of control. That didn't mean he was out of control.
Marlene continued, "Just tell me that you have some kind of plan in place if you get the urge to do something suicidally self-destructive."
"I'm not going to do anything-"
"Not what I'm asking. Look, if you ever think you're going to do something like that again and Sirius isn't with you can you just send me a message? I don't care where you are or what I'm doing, I'll be there."
That sensation that he might be dreaming grew stronger. He found he was a little numb, which was making the conversation strangely more bearable than it would have normally been. Truthfully, he hadn't been thinking about it. Hadn't been letting himself. It seemed almost offensive in light of what happened to Oliver and to his father, to want to die. Like he didn't have the right. Not when they didn't have a choice.
"Sure. If it makes you feel better, I promise. I assure you though, it won't be necessary."
"Great, glad to hear it," she said, making an abrupt jump back to cheerful. She'd said what she needed to say.
As much as he wished everyone would just stop asking questions and let him be, he had to admit, a part of him was very grateful that they cared enough to push. It was keep trying to convince them he was okay. That there wasn't a problem. Sometimes he wondered why he so desperately felt the need to do that. He knew he was trying to convince himself as much as them, and honestly it wasn't working on him any more than it was working on Lily or Marlene. Not a problem. Not a problem. If it wasn't a problem then why did he feel the need to hide it? Fuck, even he couldn't rationalize it to himself anymore most days. He was only doing the heroin a couple times a week, but he thought about it literally all the time. All day, every day. And every day was something, even if it wasn't always that. So why couldn't he just admit it out loud?
He came to the conclusion that it was because he didn't want to stop. If they knew, they'd try to make him stop. He hated himself for that. How could he know how fucked up he was and want to keep going? What the hell was wrong with him? Still, it was so fucking exhausting to have to pretend.
He'd been doing it his whole life. Pretending not to be sick. Pretending not to be in pain. Pretending to be a good student. Pretending to be happy. Since these fucking missions started, he'd even had to pretend with the only people in his life he never had to do that with before. Even with Sirius.
"Moony it's disgusting," Sirius had complained as they sat out on the terrace together one evening while Remus smoked. "It was fine when it was just at parties, but come on, every day?"
"It's meditative. Gives me something to do with my hands," he said, taking another drag as they stood together out on the terrace.
"So take up knitting," said Sirius. He'd been in a bit of a shitty mood all evening.
"It's helping me cut back on drinking," said Remus. That bit was true. The cigarettes helped with the cravings. The opiates helped a hell of a lot more.
"You need help doing that?" Sirius asked, as if he didn't quite get it.
"I- I don't know. Maybe," he said softly, dangerously close to an admission he hadn't intended to make. He felt an unexpected rush. Could he just say it? I have a problem. It's out of control. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad.
"If you don't want to drink then just don't. I tie it on as hard as you, I get it, but if you really want to stop just stop. You can just say you're smoking because you want to, you know, you don't need to make excuses," said Sirius with an eye roll.
Remus understood where he was coming from. That approach had always worked well enough for Sirius. He'd spent the last few months drinking very heavily, just like Remus. When he'd had to go back to work after his two weeks off, he'd just… decided that he was going to get his shit together again. Then he did. Just like that. It had always been that way for him. Remus had seen that cycle play out before. He could just choose to stop, same way he could just choose to only have a glass or two every now and then.
He'd never fully understood that it just didn't work that way for everyone, and Remus certainly wasn't going to push the topic. James was the same. He'd made comments about Marlene before ("I just don't get why she decided to start up again if it was causing so much trouble.") Remus stayed way the fuck out of those conversations.
"A compelling argument Padfoot, thanks," he said a little coldly.
"Don't be pissy. I'm just saying, you could learn an instrument. Or start painting. Something less gross."
Remus blew a puff of smoke in his direction with a smirk. Sirius coughed indignantly as it clouded around his face. He whipped out his wand faster than Remus could react and yelled 'expelliarmus,' causing the cigarette to go flying out of Remus' fingers and off the balcony. Remus froze for a moment, not fully processing what had just happened.
"Did- did you just disarm my cigarette?" he sputtered out in shock.
Sirius let out a loud barking laugh that was quickly overtaken by full blown giggles.
"So that's how it's going to be? The disrespect. In my own home, no less!" he exclaimed.
Sirius suddenly stopped laughing. "Yeah. What are you going to do about it?" he taunted in a husky voice.
Remus grabbed him, pushing him up against the bricks behind them. He kisses Sirius hard, pushing his hips against his.
"You taste like smoke," said Sirius breathlessly, with a slightly disgusted grimace.
"Shut the fuck up," said Remus with exasperation. He covered Sirius' mouth with his hand, turning his attention to his neck, all thoughts of conversations or confessions quickly dashed.